


Pollen

by LulaIsAKitten



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, Challenge Response, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex In A Cave, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 21:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15871872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: In response to a prompt by fems in the FandomRevival collection.Prompt: Sam/Jack “alien pollen affects one or both”.





	Pollen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fems](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fems/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [fems](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fems/pseuds/fems) in the [FandomRevival](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/FandomRevival) collection. 



> My first time writing for these two, so I thought I’d jump right in to the porn battle, lol.

The sun is bright and the air hazy. It could be a summer’s day in the Midwest, Sam muses as she looks around. The Colonel has directed them to fan out, sending Daniel in the direction of the distant village with Teal’c on his heels as backup. The Colonel himself is off to investigate the bluffs opposite the gate. She’s to sweep the fields and meadows in between and check for hostiles or evidence of Goa’uld attacks.

It’s quite pleasant, actually. The fields are full of flowers, and there’s no hurry. She stays alert, but there’s something about the warmth of the sun and the lazy buzzing of the local insects that’s almost soporific. She has to concentrate to keep her mind from wandering a little. She quarters the meadow, covering it in sections, and sees no evidence of anything other than local flora and fauna, and the soft tracks made by the locals. The little paths cross the fields, back and forth in long stripes, and she vaguely wonders why.

Her mind drifts more as the afternoon goes on. She’s not used to finding it this hard to concentrate on the job at hand. Images float through her consciousness, images that only normally invade her dreams, images that she keeps locked in a box marked “no” in the back of her head. Images of fierce brown eyes, of long, slender fingers, of muscular forearms, of salt-and-pepper hair. She puts them back in the box, but they escape over and over.

She shakes her head, moves on, follows her grid pattern, does the job. But she’s glad when a couple of hours have passed and the Colonel radios to say that Daniel and Teal’c are on their way back and she’s to head to the bluffs.

She’s a little behind the guys, finds herself following Daniel and Teal’c towards the directed rendezvous. She’s struck as she works on catching them up by the sheer size of Teal’c, by the broadness of his shoulders. Idly she wonders why she’s not noticed that before, and shakes her head to get rid of the thought. What is wrong with you today, she asks herself.

It’s a jolt, seeing the Colonel after the way her mind has wandered this afternoon, even though she only saw him a couple of hours ago. He looks taller, somehow, more tanned. She’s suddenly hyperaware of him and it’s uncomfortable. He’s talking to all of them about the cliff face, about how he’s checked out the area. There’s a stream running along to the side, and a couple of small caves, little more than hollows in the cliff face, but shelter nonetheless. The Colonel declares it their base for the night. She realises she’s not even listening, fascinated by the way his mouth moves as he talks, by the glint of the lowering light off his sunglasses.

She realises he’s stopped talking and is looking at her, and she has no idea what he just said.

“Uh, what? Sir?” she adds hastily, and sees the hint of a frown pass across his face.

“I asked if everything between here and the gate was clear,” he says a little impatiently. He never normally has to ask her a question twice.

“Oh, yeah, all checks out, sir,” she replies hurriedly. She describes the tracks that go back and forth across the field in even lines, and how odd that is given that normally one path across a field suffices.

Daniel nods enthusiastically. “They’re for the harvest,” he said. “The elders told me, they grow the flowers as a crop. They were a bit anxious you might trample them,” he says to Sam, “but we told them you’d be careful.”

The Colonel glances around at the huge expanse of meadow. “Why would anyone need to harvest so many flowers?”

“Dye, mostly, but a lot of them are also medicinal,” Daniel says, and launches into an explanation of what he’s learned that makes even Teal’c’s eyes glaze over.

“Daniel, quit it,” the Colonel commands. “We didn’t come here for a lecture on flowers. Any sign of anything useful?”

“Well, not in terms of technology, but we could learn a lot from the elders about...”

The Colonel is already looking bored. He starts unloading his pack, finding sleeping bags and supplies, and Daniel takes advantage of his distraction to put a quiet hand on Sam’s arm. To his surprise and her own, she jumps as if he’s burned her.

He jerks his head a little to indicate that she should follow, and ambles a few steps away. The Colonel and Teal’c are launching into setting up camp now.

“Um...” Daniel begins, and pauses again.

Sam looks at him. He fidgets a little, his blue eyes flicking to hers and away again. A sudden vivid image sweeps through her mind, of what it might be like to bite down on that lower lip, to suck it into her mouth, and she drags her eyes from his face, horrified. This is Daniel, sweet, enthusiastic, _married_ Daniel, who she’s never felt the slightest spark of anything other than warm friendship for. What is going on?

“Sam, did you see any little blue flowers, on long stalks?” he’s asking her, and the wary look he gives her puts her on high alert suddenly.

“Yeah, they’re down the other end of the field,” she says. “Why?”

“Uh, the elders told me to make sure you didn’t go down there,” he says, looking slightly flustered now. “Only the men harvest those.”

“Why?” she demands.

“Well, uh, apparently they use them as...” - he lowers his voice - “..as an aphrodisiac for the women, at their annual summer solstice festival in a couple of weeks. They’re just perfectly ready, apparently.”

Shit. That explains a lot.

“Only on the women?” she can’t help but ask. “Doesn’t sound like equality.”

“Doesn’t work on the men, apparently,” Daniel replies. “Maybe it replicates some function of estrogen...”

Sam glares. “Doesn’t really matter how it works,” she says in a cross voice.

“So, uh...” he hesitates and looks at her, still with the baby blue eyes and the sexy lower lip and the flick to his hair, and she turns her head resolutely and looks away across the fields.

“Yeah,” she says heavily, and he makes a sound that tries to be a concerned “hmm” but sounds suspiciously like it has a giggle hiding in it. She flashes a fierce look at him and hurriedly returns her gaze to the fields, heat sweeping up her face.

“Well, apparently it doesn’t last long, only a few hours,” he says, too cheerfully. _Hours?!_ “But it takes a while to fully work, so you should probably go wash what you can off your hands, and change your clothes maybe,” he suggests, trying to be helpful. “You might already have had a significant dose.”

She turns and marches away without another word and does as he’s suggested, washing her hands and arms in the stream, dragging wet hands through her hair to remove any pollen that might be clinging.

“Carter?” she jumps again at the deep voice behind her, and stands and spins around to face her CO. He’s frowning at her. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, sir,” she says. Is the pollen still getting into her system, or is it because she knows about its effects now? She realises the heat in her isn’t just because it’s a warm evening, it’s radiating out of her. She can’t drag her eyes from his, despite the blush rising up her face.

He frowns at her, concerned. “Daniel wouldn’t tell me what you were just discussing,” he said. “Told me I should ask you.” He’s scanning her face, clocking the flush in her cheeks. “Are you sick?”

She hesitates. So tempting. Tell him she’s sick, retire to her sleeping bag and stay there until whenever this is has passed. But he can always tell when she’s lying. “No, sir.”

“What, then?” His eyes are boring into her. His jaw looks squarer, somehow, and she can see the beginnings of the shadow of stubble. The sun is low now, but she can still see the slight sheen of sweat on his neck and wonders what it tastes like. A small sound, almost like a moan, escapes her.

“Nothing, sir,” she says again, and he sighs, impatient.

“Come off it, Carter,” he snaps. He knows something is going on. His irritation, the knit of his brows, just makes him sexier than ever. The heat flooding her pools low, suddenly, clenching in her groin. She closes her eyes.

“I can’t,” she mutters. “Tell Daniel I give him permission to tell you. I, uh, think I might turn in,” and she hurries off to the nearer cave, throwing her pack into it and starting to hunt for her sleeping bag.

“At 6pm??” the Colonel mutters, and turns back to the others, determined to extract the information from Daniel.

...

Nobody comes near her, so she guesses Daniel has explained. She’s hot, so hot in her sleeping bag. Mercifully it’s dark now, and she wriggles free and strips down to her regulation black T shirt and underwear, slides back in. She’s no cooler. She works her way in her head through the periodic table, through her to-do list back in the lab, through a grocery list, hell, anything, but nothing is working. She’s slowly getting hornier and hornier. She’s glad the boys are keeping their distance, and wonders how she’ll ever face any of them tomorrow.

She can hear their low voices as they chat and eat round the fire a short distance away. She’s acutely attuned to the timbre of her CO’s, every syllable running down her spine even when she can’t hear the actual words. Eventually she hears them packing up, hears him sending Daniel and Teal’c to rest. He’s taking first watch, presumably to keep his distance, or perhaps to keep an eye on her.

Darkness settles over the camp, lit only by the two moons that track together across the sky. She has no hope of sleeping with the storm inside of her.

She hears him moving around quietly, shifting position every now and then. She can smell the odd drift of smoke from the dying fire.

Suddenly it’s too much, the heat, the tension. She kicks off her sleeping bag and leaves the cave. Maybe a little conversation will distract her. Or maybe her mind is playing tricks, floating that idea in front of her, because all she really wants is to be nearer the Colonel, drawn like a moth to a flame.

“Carter,” his voice is soft, concerned. “You okay?”

“Yes, sir,” she manages, and it’s breathier than she intends. He’s sitting on a rock by the last glowing embers of the fire, and she goes to sit next to him. The stone is a welcome coolness on her skin, but the closeness of him draws her. She notices he’s very carefully not looking at her bare legs.

“Can’t sleep?”

“No, sir,” she glances across at him, thinking she’d be shy, and catches him inspecting her face in the moonlight. His eyes are in shadow so she can’t read his expression, but she can see his lips, see his hand where it rests on his thigh, and suddenly she can’t not touch him. She leans closer, feels him back off.

“Carter...” it’s a warning she ignores. Her mouth is seeking his, drawn, and his hand comes up to her shoulder to hold her at bay. His touch sends a jolt of electricity through her.

There’s a pause. They’re frozen, inches apart, his hand on her shoulder. She hears his breathing hitch and it stirs the storm inside of her.

She reaches up to take his hand from her shoulder and slides it down to her breast, her eyes holding his. He gasps a little and tries to pull back, but she anchors him in place. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, pressing her soft flesh through the T-shirt into his hand, and his eyes drift closed.

“Carter,” he says again, and it’s more plea than command now.

“Sir,” her voice is definitely a plea. She sways closer, and this time he doesn’t pull away as their lips meet.

She can feel him fighting it, feel the tension in him, but right now she’s got enough heat for two and she thrusts her tongue forward, not gentle. She hears the moan he makes as he tastes her, and then his defences, already severely weakened by the tumult of thoughts and desires that have warred in his head since his conversion with Daniel earlier, crumble away and he’s kissing her back. She lets go of his hand that she’s holding to her breast and he doesn’t withdraw it, instead cupping her and rubbing his thumb across her oversensitive nipple. She groans deeply into his mouth, feels him shudder at the sound of it.

They’re kissing fiercely now, and desire stronger than she’s ever felt leaps within her. How much of it is the effect of the pollen and how much the years of longing that have preceded this moment, the many small looks, touches, breaths, she doesn’t know. Indeed, she doesn’t care at this point.

It’s a full minute before he comes to his senses a little and wrenches away from her, breathing hard, turning his head. She buries her face in his neck, her mouth finding his jaw, the cords in his neck, her teeth nipping at him hungrily, and he growls and puts his hands back to her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length.

“Sam...” he manages.

She gazes at him, hungry for him, beyond caring about the chain of command or the protocol or all the damn rules. “Jack, please...” It sounds more like begging than she’d have liked, but she’s beyond caring about that either. It is begging. She’ll willingly beg if that’s what it takes.

He holds her away still, but she senses he’s weakening. His voice, when he speaks, is rough.

“Go back to bed, Sam,” he instructs, and before she can object, “At least let me change the watch.”

She looks at him, a sudden glimmer of humour. “You want Daniel or Teal’c to be awake?” she murmurs, and he chuckles. She can see him thinking, but sense and protocol wins out over desire. They’re in potential (though unlikely) enemy territory and the watch must be kept. He sends her away and moves to the other cave, and she’s amused to note it’s Daniel he wakes. She ducks out of view, hears the low exchange between them, and then the Colonel is entering the cave hot on her heels.

“I suggested he watch the perimeter,” he mutters. “I don’t think he bought it, but he’s discreet.” And that’s when she realises that this really is happening, and her heart jumps with excitement and her body clenches with arousal.

There’s no preamble, after what’s gone before. He drops down next to her on his sleeping mat and pulls her to him, his mouth finding hers at once to take up where they left off. There’s no restraint this time, no hesitation. He kisses her fiercely and then pulls away to run his mouth across her cheek to her ear and down her neck.

She arches against him, whimpering at the heat within her. She’s more aroused than she’s ever been in her life. The smell, the taste, the feel of him. He pushes her down onto her sleeping bag, and he knows, she swears he knows how much she needs this because there’s no gentleness, no taking his time. He pushes her flat and his mouth is on her through her panties, and she has to bite back the cry that tries to escape her.

He sucks at her though cotton that’s already soaked, and she writhes beneath him, unbelievable pleasure storming through her. He pulls back for just long enough to pull her underwear from her and toss it aside, and then he moves in again. She’s braced for it but he pauses, agonisingly close. She can feel his breath against her.

“Jack, please!” she gasps, thrusting her hips up against nothing, seeking his mouth, his hands, anything. Anything to assuage the ache, the need.

Then she feels his fingers on her, against her, feather-light. Almost sobbing with desire, she tries to press towards him, seeking him. He toys with her for just a moment, and then he presses forward and in one movement slides two long, lean fingers into her and sweeps his tongue across her clit.

This time she does cry out, surely too loudly, but she doesn’t care any more. All that exists on this whole planet is his mouth and sliding fingers, drawing pleasure from her, building it, stoking it. She’s been so aroused for so many hours, it doesn’t take long. Almost before she’s even had time to enjoy it, she’s clenching around his fingers, bucking against his face, gasping and writhing as he draws more and more spasms from her until at last she collapses back against the floor.

He withdraws gently and moves up to lay next to her as she pants and recovers her breath.

“Better?” his voice is low and husky and amused, but it’s fond amusement, he’s not laughing at her. She rumbles a low laugh in return. “Barely,” she murmurs. “I mean, yeah, much, but that pollen is powerful stuff.”

He lowers his head to kiss the side of her neck again. “It’s like all of ten minutes since I woke Daniel,” his voice is soft in her ear. “We have hours and hours.” She shivers against him in anticipation.

He’s moving slowly now, assuming she’ll need a minute, but in truth she’s still aching for him. She wonders what’s made him agree to this so readily, and decides not to think about it too carefully.

Jack is still exploring her neck with his lips, too slow, and she moans with impatience and pushes herself up and over him, rolling him over so she’s on top of him on the sleeping mat. She hears him chuckle before she finds his mouth with hers, silencing him, kissing him fiercely. It’s not enough, any of it, and she writhes against him, nipping at him with her teeth, his lips, his jaw, his neck. His breathing hitches sharply and she can feel his arousal beneath her. He groans, his hands grasping at her hips and pulling her down onto him so he can grind up against her.

It’s still not enough, and she’s pulling away a little and tugging at his belt, wrestling with the fastening of his pants. He murmurs at her to slow down but she ignores him, and he’s not doing much to stop her. It’s not _just_ the pollen that’s doing this, then, it’s also the years of buildup to this moment.

She drags his pants and boxers from him, and he helps, her, sitting up, stripping off his T-shirt too, and suddenly he’s naked before her. It’s too dark to see him properly in the cave, so she feels instead, her hands running everywhere, feeling and hearing him gasp and shudder as she touches and touches and touches. She can’t get enough of his skin.

Then he’s pulling at her T-shirt and bra, and soon she’s as naked as he is. She tries to push him back down onto the mat but he resists, and he’s much stronger than she is. That turns her on even more, and she shudders and climbs across to straddle him.

“Sam...” he sounds amused and aroused, his voice husky, but she doesn’t care just now if he thinks she’s going too fast. They have all night, after all, like he said.

She raises herself up, meaning to thrust down onto him, but pauses as his mouth finds her breast. Soft cries of pleasure escape her as he explores, one hand on the other breast and one hand under her ass holding her still. His teeth are nipping gently at her nipple now while his thumb rasps against the other, and the pleasure of it is almost too much.

She pushes closer and rubs herself against him, her slick folds sliding over the head of his erection, and Jack groans deeply. The sound of him is fuel on the fire within her, and she sinks down onto him.

Her small cries of need slip down into a deep groan of pleasure as he fills her. As she reaches the base of him, her knees spread wide, she gives a hitching gasp as her clit rubs against him, pressed between them. “Fuck...” she whispers, pleasure and desire clenching within her. For a moment she thinks she might come instantly, and she holds still, her breathing uneven.

“You okay?” he murmurs, seeking her mouth again to kiss her, and she draws a shaky breath and kisses him passionately, her tongue swirling against his, holding herself still, stretched over him. The pleasure within her is at fever pitch even without movement.

“Yes,” she whispers raggedly. “God, that’s so good.” She begins to rock slowly against him, holding his shoulders and sliding herself up and down him, groaning deeply with pleasure, her eyes glazing over.

Jack leans his head back a little to try to watch her in the dark, listening to her, wanting to see and hear the pleasure storming through her as she moves against him. She rocks up against him steadily, groaning raggedly now as her self-control begins to shred. She draws deep, shuddering breaths, arousal burning within her. A few more thrusts, and suddenly her groans turn to gasping cries and she clenches around him as her orgasm sweeps through her and she bucks against him. With a muffled groan he joins her, pulsing within her, his hips jerking against her.

Shuddering, she slows, still enjoying the feeling of him in her and against her, rocking a little as she slowly gets her breath back, eventually stilling and resting against him, her forehead on his. She’s slick with sweat, she realises. They both are.

She finally feels some measure of relief, and part of her hopes that’s it, while part of her hopes there’ll be another round in a while.

“Why did you agree to this?” she whispers, glad of the dark as she slides herself off him and they lay down together. He chuckles.

“Daniel implied that this might work through the symptoms faster,” he says ruefully. “He wasn’t offering to do the honours, though.”

She shifts uncomfortably at the thought that this is in any way a duty or favour he’s done her.

“Hey.” His hand finds her hair, stroking. “I’m kidding, Sam. He knew I’d jump at the chance.”

She laughs a little herself, then. It’s an absurd situation, and god knows what things will be like from now on between them. But they have deniability, kind of. It’s enough.

And there’s still the rest of the night.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m lulacat3 on Tumblr. Just rewatching SG-1 20 years on and reviving my interest!


End file.
